Romanticide
by POTOF
Summary: Erik ventures forth on a new journey. Blindly speeding toward his own destruction, one question will determine his fate; will the person who's longed for his presence be able to remember who he truly is, or will he crush her dreams and destroy them both?
1. The Dreamer

Hurry and wait, the same routine each time. I strip myself of comfort, covering up all I know with heavy paint. Blinding lights and garish colors are all I see in this classic masquerade. Now stretch. Hit that move until it hurts. Pain, after all, is glamorous.

Back to the room, where the chorus strips faster than well-paid whores. A whore…that's what I have become…a whore for excitement and meaning in my life. But at what price? Rashes at my sides from shiny sequined shirts, blisters on my feet from the restricting shoes we're all forced to wear.

Back onstage. I Force myself to continue, to ignore the raspy sound in my tired voice. I look out into the audience and smile. Is he there? No. He never is. He never will be…except in my mind. Focus. Taller vowels and a bigger smile. Yes, I keep smiling, even though I feel the dreaded pain inside of my chest and the devastating flood about to break forth from the dam behind my eyes. Now take it all away. Because through the colorful mask I wear they can still see me. Or what they perceive to be me. No matter how thorough my disguise, my deformity still shines brightly through. It is my curse, my mark…it is my true form.

It's over. Silence echoes throughout the halls as I walk to the door, alone. The reassuring comfort of the jeans and sloppy t-shirt I am wearing begin to soothe the night's torment. Then I notice the other pain. Loneliness and an unexplainable ache deep within my bones drive me to the breaking point. I long for both to vanish, but know they never will. Yet everything could be silenced with just one touch…a whisper of passion from the lips of an angel.

Outside I hide within the bushes. From the depths of my bag, I pull the beautiful shining instrument of pain, my friend. It sinks easily into the supple soft skin of my arm and I cry out in relief. Red poison, type AB Positive, streams rapidly from my veins. I can feel my own heart bringing me closer and closer to him with each pounding beat. I can hear his voice now. Above the sirens I hear him curse and scream. A smile appears briefly on my face. The angel has lost his temper again. Darkness closes in, pressing heavily upon my chest. His screaming turns to pleading. He wants me to live, to feel the sun on my face, as he never could. But I want to see him…I need to feel his touch. The cold darkness takes me and leads me to him. He puts his arms around me and holds me close.

I have not been with him long, but already the pain is calling me back to the light. It's time to live again.

"Why would you do such a thing?" the angel asks softly.

As I drift away from his loving touch, I answer him tenderly, "Because I love you."

An alarm sounds and I wake up, startled. 6:05AM.

"Not yet." he whispers.

I get out of bed, knowing that I am not brave enough to take the escape route that the shining kitchen knives offer me. Slipping on a robe and some slippers, I step out into the brisk morning air. The sun comes up and bathes my face in a warm yellow glow. He would never come. I woke from my dreams each night reaching out for him in the darkness, but he was still just a fantasy in my head. No matter how realistic my dreams had seemed lately, I still noticed the barrier. It was a barrier consisting of over a hundred years of time. Some even told me that the barrier was one that separated fact from fiction as well. But I couldn't believe that. I refused to believe that I spent so much of my time thinking about someone who never existed. And yet it would be just the sort of thing that would happen to me…the sort of thing that happened to me all the time.

I gently sipped on the warm cup of tea that I had made while silently debating the matter with myself. Today was the first day of summer vacation, but I was still cold. I was almost always cold. Normally I would have slept in till about noon, but there were things that needed to be done. I had been working on my current fan-fiction for almost a year now. It was my first attempt at writing a story so long, but I wasn't necessarily worried about that. Ever since the night when my friends had first shown me the movie Phantom of the Opera, I had become obsessed. Six different stories had aligned in my head, and they cast themselves onto my eyelids like movies each night before I fell asleep. The first was nearly complete. All that was left to do was edit and post.

The white arrow hovered over the 'post' button on the computer screen. I took a deep breath and clicked on it with the mouse. It was over. After almost a year, I could relax for a while. There would soon come a time when the second story would demand attention, but for now it waited calmly in the back of my mind. I opened a new window and went to my home page on Facebook. Nobody was on yet because they were all still asleep in bed. For a status update there was only one thing I could put.

"Vacation's started and I'm finally done with my story. Maybe now I can get some rest."

I trudge back upstairs to my room and flop heavily onto the bed with a sigh. The soft warmth of the surrounding covers invited me in and I slipped underneath them, snuggling as far underneath as I could to hide from the seemingly cold air.

Closing my eyes, I reminded myself that I shouldn't go to sleep. I shouldn't have, but I did. Lovely sounds filled my ears as I drifted slowly downward through the stone floors. Any wood that had been set down for flooring was long since burnt away. I knew where I was without so much as a second thought.

"Well, this is new." I mused.

Never before had any of the scenery at the opera house seemed so real. The only thing I really cared about was that I was going down. By concentrating, I was able to descend faster through the floors and ever closer toward him. My own mind wouldn't be so cruel as to deny me at least a glimpse of the Phantom, would it? It had done it before, but never when I was dreaming with such accurate detail.

"Please be there…for my sake." I pleaded to the darkness.

Suddenly I stopped descending and the space around me was dimly lit by gently glowing candles. I was here. Looking around, I spotted him. The phantom was sitting at his organ playing a sweet lullaby. Afraid that I would soon be pulled back into my own time, I moved closer to see his face. Unfortunately, he had placed a mask over his deformity, my own brain denying my secret wish to see his whole face. I began to think that it was just as well that the mask was in place, seeing as how he knew nothing of my presence. It would have rode on my conscience had I seen his secret without his knowledge. I wished to earn his trust, not his fury. As my body passed silently through a candelabra, I was reminded that this was only a dream, not a dream come true. The flames through which I passed flickered and went out. Confusion and wariness showed on the Phantom's face as he turned his head toward me. He then jumped up and backed slowly toward where his sword rested against the wall. I reached a hand out toward him, trying to assure him that I meant no harm. Then it dawned upon me. He wasn't looking at me, but through me. Before I had the chance to turn and investigate, a woman rushed through me. The first thing that I noticed about her was her hand…because it carried a dagger.

The woman stepped forward and grabbed the Phantom's shirt.

"You killed my brother, Joseph." she said calmly, "Now I am going to kill you. It's all as simple as that."

He had his sword in his right hand, but I knew that he wouldn't hurt her. Never would he hurt a woman simply to save his own life, which he deemed wretched and useless. I moved quickly as I could to try and intercept the blade, but it went straight through me, just like everything else. Just as I had thought, the Phantom stood unmoving as the blade slashed again and again into his chest. I didn't even ask myself why I thought it would work; I simply slid into the woman's body. She immediately started to fight me, but it was too late. I had possessed her...and she didn't have a prayer. Without pausing to let my conscience change my mind, I took the dagger in the woman's hand and slashed her throat. There was no pain and I removed myself from her body, letting the corpse slide to the floor and crumple in a pool of blood. Knowing that there was nothing to left to keep me in this nightmare, I turned to go.

"Wait," the Phantom rasped.

He was alive? I had thought that the woman had surely killed him, but it seemed as though poor Erik would have the honor of bleeding to death instead.

"Whoever you are," he whispered, "wherever you are…please...don't let me die alone."

I turned and went to where he was sitting, leaning his back against the wall, wishing with all of my might that I could wake myself. Tears raced down my cheeks and I leaned my weightless body gently against him. He released a sigh of pleasure and relief. I realized that although he could not see me or touch me, he could feel the warmth of my body when I touched him. Knowing this, I ran my hand gently along his uncovered cheek. He took a gasping breath and I knew that it was to be one of his very last. Erik's eyes opened and closed as he fought to remain conscious. In all my strange wonderings, I would have never thought that the Phantom was afraid of death. Then I reminded myself of the truth. The dying man beside me was not the immortal Phantom, but Erik, the human being with hopes dreams and fears. The fear in his eyes made me frantic. I took his face gently in my hands.

"Don't be afraid, love." I whispered into his ear, "I won't let you go. I promise."

I was in awe with myself for making a promise that I didn't know how to keep. It had just burst forth from my soul like a fountain…a fountain of hope. I softly but passionately kissed his lips. Erik's body relaxed, he smiled, and then exhaled for what would be the last time.

I woke up shivering. My dreams had never been that way before. Regardless of how the dream went from my perspective, Erik had never gotten hurt. Emotion swelled up within me and I grabbed my notebook. This was the time to write. I did my best work when depressed or hurting, and the concentration that it took to write my stories always distracted me from my sorrows. The days wore on and soon it was almost time to return to school. The story that I had been writing was finally complete in my mind, and all I had to do was sit down at a computer and let it slowly flow from my fingertips. I started to head toward the basement to log onto the computer, when my dog started barking. Curious as to what would make my sweet chocolate Labrador Retriever bark and growl in such a way, I stepped outside.

"What is it girl?" I asked softly.

I heard voices coming from across the street and looked over to see a group of boys from my school gathered in a circle kicking something on the ground. Since they were all on the football team, I assumed that they were simply playing ball. Then I heard someone cry out in pain. Realizing that it was a human being that they were attacking, I rushed over. I was afraid of being hurt myself, but I could not and would not stand by and let someone be hurt right before my eyes. The group pulled aside at my call and I saw a young man curled up in pain on the ground. By the designer brand clothes that he was wearing, I guessed that he was the new rich kid on the block. After a tense conversation, the young man was picked up by the collar and thrown in my general direction. He wandered around in circles, blindly searching for a means of escape. I grabbed him by the arm and he flinched. As events progressed, I became more and more aware of how much this new person reminded me of Erik. I pushed this realization as far back into my mind as I could. I wanted to try and befriend this person, and comparing him to Erik would only make matters more complicated than they already were. If I wanted this person as a friend, I had to ignore the thoughts that my longing heart was whispering in my ear. I had to ignore the presence that had lately seemed stronger than ever before…I had to ignore the Phantom of the Opera.


	2. Judgement Passed and Mission Forgotten

I passed through space and time, speeding past galaxies and finally passing into a black hole. It seemed as though I had been in the empty blackness for only a moment before I was surrounded by a pure and blinding white light. I was placed before a shimmering throne. Placed upon the throne was my God, to the right was the Son, and all around were a multitude of angels. My tainted soul burned in the presence of those who I once lived among. He who had been my Earthly master was gone, and with him his powerful hold on my mind and soul. Forced to the ground by the purity and glory of my true master, I fell to my knees in a bow.

"You know what you deserve, do you not, Asher?" my master said in a dangerous tone.

Asher…my angelic name. I had almost forgotten that I had any name at all, human or angelic.

"Yes, Lord." I replied humbly.

"You were sent to Earth to help the child as much as you could with the talents you had been blessed with." He said with a sigh. "I allowed your mortal life to be filled with it's horrors so that you might be better suited to help her, that you would understand what it was to be alone in life. Yet you strayed from your path, forsaking me and allowing the enemy to fill you with hate. It was my intention that you would stay and watch over the young woman…to be with her for the rest of her days. Why else do you imagine that I gave you the astounding love that you had for her? Hate and love cannot both exist within the same being without one of them being destroyed, this you knew and chose to ignore, thus you yourself were destroyed by the evil works of your own hands. Have you anything to say for your actions in the presence of this heavenly court?"

My shoulders sagged. I would have given anything for a second chance, but knew I did not deserve one. I deserved to be cast into Hell…where all the other fallen angels now resided. I stayed silent, fearful of my master's sentence.

"You do not wish for another chance then?" He asked softly, "You do not ask to be forgiven?"

I looked up in awe. On Earth there had been no forgiveness from anyone. My temporary master did not forgive mistakes, and neither did any of the humans I had met. I had forgotten the compassion, mercy, and grace of God. Tears streamed down my face and I lowered my head once more, ashamed of my sinful betrayal. He reached down and touched my head, and all of the blackness in my soul disappeared. I had been forgiven. But what of my second chance? Would He allow me to earn back my status as an angel?

"Yes," He said, answering my unspoken thoughts. "I will grant you one last chance. You have no mission this time except to follow the road you deem best. If the road that you travel is one that does not lead you astray, then you shall regain your status as an angel."

"But Lord," I asked, "how shall I know which path is best?"

"You will know." He replied, "But I shall tell you how to begin in the right direction. There is someone on Earth who, given the chance, will help you as best she can. Seek her out as quickly as you can to avoid being deceived by others who would harm you. She has guessed at your existence and has prayed many a time for your soul. She will accept you for who you truly are. I shall give no hint as to how to recognize her, for that is part of your test. Finding her is not mandatory, but would be in your best interest. Go now, and form your future."

As soon as He said 'go', I felt myself beginning to drift off to sleep. Soon I was waking up in an unfamiliar time and place, without my mask. Before panic set in, facts slowly started to file into my mind.

My name remained Erik Destler. This meant nothing because no one had ever called me by my name when I was last human. I had not even told Christine my name…I hadn't had the chance. Madame Giry had always called me 'Monsieur', and everyone else 'the Phantom'… they didn't call me anything to my face. They just screamed. Those memories were erased from my mind to make room for new ones. I was eighteen years old and would be entering my senior year of high school in a few days. My mother and father were very rich and let me do as I pleased, giving me everything that I wanted. I was no longer in France, but America! My family had recently moved from Colorado to Indiana in order to attract more business. The year was 2009. Information from my years attending school flooded in, and I was pleased to find that I was quite smart as well as being rich. The only thing that momentarily struck me as odd was that I took normal classes. Though my ability to learn surpassed that of the material I was being taught, I found myself not caring. I was lazy. Thanks to my old memories being erased, the image of myself that I had just created in my mind turned from 'lazy' to 'carefree'. Soon my memories were as complete as they were to become and I looked around, marveling at the technology around me. Unfortunately, I had no idea as to what anything was. I then realized that I was in trouble. If I had no idea what anything was or how to use it, how could I possibly go unnoticed by the rest of society?

I walked down the spiraling stairway, past the dining room and into the parlor. Sitting there were a man and woman who I recognized to be my parents. Not wanting to anger them, I stood in front of them and waited for them to notice my presence. They glanced up from the various articles that they were reading and looked at me expectantly.

"Well, what is it that you want?" my mother asked impatiently.

I stood in shocked silence. It was as if they wanted me to ask for something so that they could give it to me and convince me to leave them alone. Never before had anyone wanted to give me anything, regardless of his or her motives.

"Have you used up the thousand we gave you already?" my father said with an amused tone in his voice, "I swear, you'll grow up to be like your mother yet!"

"There are some things that a woman needs in order to maintain her status in society!" she replied indignantly, "I buy nothing less than I need to avoid mingling with the insulting commoners that appear to be so abundant here."

Nodding in agreement, my father reached into his pocket and thrust a wad of paper bills into my hand. I looked down and found that I could easily count what once would have been foreign currency. A thousand dollars worth of crumpled bills were now in my possession.

"If you please, sir, I did not come to you for money but for permission to investigate my new home for a few days."

Having said this, I held the money out toward my parents. They looked at me as though I had lost my mind.

"Since when do you need permission to roam about?" my father asked, "Go for as long as you like, just try not to get yourself killed."

They both stood up and walked toward the back door where the garden was located, leaving me standing alone with a thousand dollars of American money.

I stuffed the money deep into my pockets and headed toward the front door. I was stopped in my tracks by the presence of a mirror in the hallway. Staring at my own reflection, I reached up to touch the right side of my face. Surely enough, the skin that I touched was soft and smooth. Not a single inch of my face was reddened or deformed. I was normal. Stepping outside, I let the warm summer breeze wash over me. For the first time as a human being, I was free. I walked down the street, thinking that there was something that I was supposed to be doing, but drawing a blank. Little did I know at the time that with every corrupting fact that I accepted, I forgot a little bit of my past. Without having been in the year 2009 for even a half hour, my goal of finding the young woman who would help me had been erased from my memory. And all because I had accepted the fact that I didn't have to ask permission for anything. I had allowed myself to abandon the manners that I knew one always showed around his or her parents.

There was a young lady walking ahead of me and I noticed that something dropped from the stack of papers in her arms and floated to the middle of the road. I walked over, picked up the paper, and started jogging toward her at a light pace.

"Excuse me, Miss? You dropped this." I said, holding the paper out to her.

She took one look at the paper and started to back away from me.

"That's not mine…" she said quickly.

"Yes, it is." I corrected her, "It fell from the stack of papers you're holding."

I started to walk toward her and she looked around nervously. In her panic, she dropped some of her other papers. I stepped forward to help her pick them up, and she screamed. Some boys nearby who were playing a sport called football looked over and came running towards me. I turned around to explain to the girl that I meant her no harm, when she kneed me and ran off. I slid to the ground in pain and watched as the group of teenage boys descended on me. They kicked and punched until I saw and tasted blood. Suddenly I heard a voice, female, calling out.

"Stop that!" she said, "What do you think you're doing? Get away from him!"

"The newcomer was making trouble." one of the boys said, "We're simply teaching him a lesson!"

"It doesn't look that way to me." she said angrily, "It looks to me like you're trying to beat him to death!"

Another female voice spoke up from close by.

"What's the matter, Soccer Mom, afraid that he'll call the cops and they'll arrest you for a million fashion violations?"

The surrounding crowd burst out into laughter.

"You all are a shame to our school and to this town!" she said loudly, "If you don't get out of here right now, I _will_ call the cops!"

The laughter slowly died down and the boy holding me said, "If you want little I-don't-work-for-my-money so badly, you take him!"

I was forced to my feet and shoved forward. Unable to see anything through the blood covering my face, I wandered around in circles, much to the amusement of the crowd around me. A hand caught me by the arm and I flinched, expecting more pain.

"It's okay," the girl said, "I'm not going to hurt you."

I heard the sound of many footsteps walking lazily away. It was over. My head began to throb and spin. My legs grew unsteady and I felt myself being lowered gently to the ground. I crawled forward until I felt the edge of the road, then retched into the grass. I felt a cool hand being placed against my forehead, and I soon ceased to be ill. The young lady helped me to my feet and started leading me down the road.

"My house is right here at the end of this road." she said, "We'll get you cleaned up there."

Soon I was being led up some steps in her house and being told to sit down. I did as I was told and heard water running. A warm wet cloth dabbed gently against my face. The young lady cleaned my eyes first, allowing me to see her for the first time. It was true that she wasn't the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen, but she did have a strange natural beauty about her. What caught my attention most about her was her eyes. They looked upon me with concern and compassion, filling my soul with peace. It felt strange to have someone caring for me, no one ever had before. Unused to such attention, I insisted that the young lady allow me to take over in cleaning the blood off of my face and tending my wounds, gesturing with my hands to avoid getting more blood in my mouth. At first she tried to object, but I insisted. I pulled off my shirt and began removing the blood from my skin. Once I was finished, I inspected my wounds. Most everything was bumps and bruises, with the exception of a rather nasty gash on my head. I washed the blood from my hair and put a bandage over the wound. Putting my shirt back on, I headed out into the kitchen, but the girl was not there. I continued on into the living room and found her sitting on the couch writing in a notebook. Smiling at the comforting familiarity of the activity, I strode forward to thank the girl for her help. She looked up and smiled at me momentarily, then her jaw dropped in shock.


	3. First Meetings

I stared at him in awe. He looked exactly like him. Or…at least…what he would have looked like as a teenager. The only physical difference between the injured young man in my house and the deceased Phantom was that this man had no deformity. He moved uncomfortably and I slowly rose from my seat. Making my way toward him, I stretched out my hand and touched his arm lightly. This was no dream. He felt too real for that.

"E-Erik?" I questioned shakily.

He jumped a bit and I let out a little shriek, jumping away from him.

"How do you know my name?" he asked in surprise, "Have we met?"

I stood shaking, my eyes wide in shock. It wasn't possible! He would have died a long time ago. This person would think that I was insane, but I had to ask.

"Are you he?" I asked softly.

He raised an eyebrow.

"I'm afraid you have me a bit confused." Erik said, "Who exactly is it that you think I am?"

I took a slow breath and looked deeply into his beautiful emerald eyes.

"Are you….Are you the Phantom of the Opera?"

His eyes grew wide and he bolted toward the back door. I raced after him and found him standing outside, leaning against a tree and holding his side. As I stepped closer to him, I could hear his irregular breathing. He swayed a little and then slid to the ground. I went to his side and he backed up as far as he could against the tree.

"Who are you?" he whispered.

"I'm nobody special," I said solemnly, "but my name is Elizabeth."

Erik stared at me, trying to determine the truth.

"Are you some sort of witch?" he asked.

I laughed. This was amazing. Somehow I had become delirious and was hallucinating. Dangerous, perhaps, but to me, this was heaven.

"Perhaps I should ask the doctor to reduce my sleeping medication…" I murmured.

"What?" Erik said confusedly.

"Forgive me." I replied, "It's not that this isn't pleasant, talking to you, but even pleasant hallucinations are dangerous ones."

He looked at me as though I had gone insane.

"Well, what else could it be?" I asked rhetorically, "the Phantom of the Opera…err…you…have been….umm….dead for…ah….about one-hundred years."

I stuttered over the words that I had been circulating through my mind for the past year. It seemed so much harder to say when those beautiful intelligent eyes…his eyes… were staring right through me.

He slowly rose from the ground and made a move as if preparing to sprint. That small movement of his leg twisted his side muscles, and he pitched forward with a cry of pain. I automatically moved to catch him and was shocked by the warmth of his body. Erik was tall and strong for a teenager, these features only enhancing his beauty. He turned his head to look at me and for a moment I forgot to breathe. The blond hair that I had never seen dry framed his face and several locks gently draped forward on one side, filtering the sunlight that shone on his smooth pale face. His emerald eyes were green pools of warmth, thoughts swirling within making them sparkle in the afternoon sun. I had to stiffen my body to keep from touching his face, a gesture that I knew he would not understand. Lowering him to the ground, I sat beside him, grinning like an idiot. My dog, Grace, came over and began to sniff him. Erik stiffened and I put a hand on his arm.

"She won't hurt you." I assured him, "The worst that could happen is that she would trap you here to pet her for all of eternity."

As I was saying this, Grace positioned herself beside Erik and put her head on his lap. For the briefest moment, I could have sworn that I saw the side of his mouth twitch upward in a smile. Then he turned toward me.

"How do you know who I am?" he asked in wonder.

I froze. The only way to explain that would be to show him, which I knew I could not do. Not yet.

"I'll tell you someday," I said evasively, "but not now. Not when we've just met."

I tried to keep my tone light, but he still stared at me for a moment before looking away.

We sat in silence for a while, Erik's hand moving down Grace's body. There was so much that I wanted to ask him, so much about him that I yearned to know. Yet I knew that I could never ask those questions if I wanted Erik to trust me. Nothing in the world could ever make me hurt him like I would if I asked about his past, so I decided to forget. I would forget all that I knew about Erik and let him make his own impression on me. It would be difficult to pretend that I was clueless, but I figured that I could pull it off if I only managed to keep my mouth shut. The more I thought about it, the more I realized how difficult it would be to suppress my obsessed mind. For over a year, the majority of my thoughts had revolved around him and how deeply I wished for him to be by my side. Now that he was somehow here, I was embarrassed by my hunger for him. All of my wishing seemed childish, but my dreams about us still held strong. True, I could not rush immediately into his arms as I had long dreamed of doing, but I still held hope for the thought of someday.

I helped him to his feet and walked with him down my driveway.

"So," I said awkwardly, "I guess you're the new guy everyone's been talking about?"

He nodded. "So it seems."

A strange reply for the question I'd asked, but that didn't really surprise me. Erik was bound to be somewhat mysterious.

"Are you attending a private school, or will you be going to the local madhouse?"

Erik turned and looked at me in shock and confusion. "Whaaaaat?"

The smile on my face stretched to the point that the muscles were beginning to ache. It was a pleasant feeling, and one that I had not felt for a long time.

"The high school." I replied, "I sometimes call it a madhouse because of all the strange people that attend."

His expression relaxed into one of mere interest and we continued walking.

"I shall be attending the local school. My parents wanted me to go to a private facility, but I thought it best to attempt mingling a bit."

For the first time in ages, I was suddenly ecstatic about school starting. We came to his house and he held out his arm to me. Yes, this had to be a dream. Otherwise I would not be able to hesitantly wrap my arm around his and be escorted into his home.

My mouth dropped slightly as we entered the doorway. I had only seen houses like this on television, not up close. Servants slowed in their work to stare at me. Blood rushed to my face as I felt my jeans rubbing against my skin. Erik and I sat side by side on the sofa, and my eyes were immediately drawn to him. You could have flashed diamonds in front of my face at that moment and I would not have been interested. The most precious jewels were set into the face of the man in front of me, two sparkling emeralds that filled me with desire. My previous embarrassment faded away and I couldn't help but to compare Erik's features with that of worldly treasures. His eyes were emeralds, his smile composed of pearls, his soft skin was velvet, and his hair had the light of the sun itself woven into it. I knew that I was staring, but I couldn't stop myself. He was so beautiful. Something in Erik's eyes shifted and suddenly there was only us. It was at that moment that I knew he was there. This was no dream, and my prayers had somehow been answered. Well, at least the first half of them…but perhaps there was at least some hope for the second?

If there were hope for Erik to love me, I wouldn't find out at that moment. Someone cleared their throat and I was brought back to reality. I was not living in one of my stories. If Erik and I were to become all I dreamed, then I would have to work at it a little bit. The person who had interrupted my bliss was a man, presumably Erik's father.

"Son," he said in a formal tone, "it's a good thing that you're home. Apparently your mother has volunteered us to go to one of her…social gatherings. We need to leave as soon as possible."

I suddenly felt very small and insignificant. Back in his own time, Erik and I would have had an eternity to sit and talk in solitude without fear of interruption. Here Erik had a family and social obligations to fulfill. I stood to leave and he followed me to the door like a true gentleman. He exceeded the standards of etiquette and stepped outside with me, shutting the door behind him.

"Will I see you again?" he asked quietly.

My heart did a complete flip inside my chest as he focused all of the intensity burning in his eyes upon me. What was I to say to him? I couldn't very well confess my desire to be by his side every moment of the rest of my life! I swallowed hard to push down the excitement and wonder that would surely be in my voice.

"Probably." I said coolly, "We'll be going to the same school and stuff so…um…yeah."

'What was THAT?' I shouted inwardly at myself.

Great! By now Erik was most likely convinced that I was a complete moron. 'Stuff'? 'Um'? 'YEAH'??? I was doomed. My cheeks were nearly in flames from my blushing so hard. I looked down at my feet, which did not help in the least. Erik looked at me with a puzzled but bemused expression on his face. He then gently took my hand, bowed, and brushed his lips against the back of it with a light kiss. The blush quickly reappeared in the form of a short flushing of the cheeks, provoked by my shy nature rather than by embarrassment.

"Until then, Mademoiselle." he said.

I walked back to my house with my head stuck pleasantly in the clouds. It was one of those 'I'll never wash this hand ever again!!!' moments, even though I knew that I would obviously end up washing it whenever next necessary. All I could think of each day until school started was seeing him again. He was somehow here, and I had somehow managed to earn his favor. My Phantom of the Opera stories were playing like movies through my mind. It was possible for my biggest and most impossible dream to come true at last. Determination consumed my heart and mind…Erik would be mine.


	4. Fading Faces & Embarrassing Discoveries

Erik's POV-

I was lying on my bed with my hands clasped behind my head, when I decided that I couldn't stand it anymore. It had been three days since Elizabeth had saved me from being beaten to death, and I just simply could not stop thinking about her. How did she know about my past life? Even more concerning, what all did she know? Surely if she knew everything she would have run away…wouldn't she? Who would willingly befriend a murderer? There were still several weeks left before the first trimester of school began, and the thought of waiting that long to see her again made me nervous. The only thing that kept me from thinking that she had just been a dream were the bruises that caused my body to ache every time I attempted to move. Hour by hour the details of her face faded in my mind. Amidst forgetting many of the things from my past, she was slowly being forgotten as well. I didn't know the exact reason for forgetting her at the time, so I became more and more frustrated. It took great focus for me to remember even the most general details about her. The girl's voice became generic, as did the features of her body.

I sat up, startled. What was her name? I had forgotten her name! That was enough. Ignoring the pain surging through my body, I flew down the stairs and out the door. I would see her tomorrow at school, but I felt a desperate urgency to see her before that. Maybe if I just saw her again I would remember…but what if that wasn't enough? What would she think if she knew I had forgotten almost everything about her? Why, oh, why could I not remember her name? What was it? Emily? Crystal? Christine? I froze in mid-step. Christine. Why did my mind have to remember _her_? My relationship with Christine had left me with nothing but ashes. I desperately wanted to forget all about the little diva that had broken my heart, but I couldn't somehow. Perhaps that was more of my punishment for…for what? What did I do again? There was some important lesson that I was supposed to have learned from that, but all I could remember was the pain she brought me. Something was desperately wrong with that, but I didn't really have time to try and remember what it was.

I walked up to the girl's front door and rang the doorbell. This wouldn't go well if I couldn't greet her by name. The door opened and she stood there with a look of shock written across her face. Apparently she hadn't expected me to come back. How could I stay away from such an intriguing young lady? It was true that she didn't have the perfect figure that Christine had been blessed with, but soft curves still gave her body a very feminine touch. Instead of deep brown locks, her hair was a lovely strawberry blonde. Christine's hands and skin were similar to hers, both ladies having a very pale complexion and long slim fingers. Then my eyes met hers. There lay the difference that set the two women apart. While Christine's eyes were a simple but pleasant brown, this one's eyes were hazel. The sunlight seemed to dance within them, and it turned her eyes a beautiful golden brown, like honey. This was the one that I couldn't stop thinking of. This was…Elizabeth.

Elizabeth's POV-

Sitting on the couch, I flipped through the channels on the television, unsatisfied and fidgety. I wanted so badly to see Erik again! His house was within walking distance of mine, but there was no way that I was going back there again. Even with him standing beside me, I had still felt very unwelcome in Erik's house. Besides, it would also be a bit awkward to just show up at his door unannounced. He hadn't exactly invited me back, though I suspected that this was to protect me from the stares of his parents and staff. His number was in the phonebook of course, but I didn't feel comfortable calling him. I felt uncomfortable enough talking to my childhood friends by telephone, not to mention Erik. Okay, so none of those were the real reason that I didn't contact him. The actual reason was that I knew the truth. It had all been a dream. I had even called one of my friends the next day to laugh about it. My options were either laugh or cry. Why had I been having these violent dreams about Erik lately? First I go into his home and he gets stabbed to death, and now this? It was enough to drive a Phan mad, but perhaps I was already there. Several times I had seriously thought about going over to the large house down the street to see if he was there. I could just see myself ringing the doorbell and having some snooty old lady come to the door. There was no way that Erik was here! And yet…

I turned off the television with a heavy sigh. My obsession was going to kill me someday, but I just couldn't help myself. Erik was my life. Well, he wasn't exactly my _whole_ life, but he did make things a lot easier to bear at school. Whenever I started to get depressed from being teased or left out of things, I would just think of him. Erik's tragic story reminded me that I wasn't alone. I couldn't and certainly wouldn't go around killing anyone who got on my nerves, but I could still smile at the thought of the terrified looks on their faces if Erik were to deal with them. My parents didn't exactly love the fact that I spent most of my leisure time writing stories about him, but I didn't care. As long as they didn't try to stop me, we would get along just fine. Don't get me wrong, I love my parents to death, but they just seem to refuse to understand about Erik.

As if by magic, my mom walked into the room and tossed something at me.

"I found this…_thing_ in the basement."

She wrinkled her nose as she said it and I rolled my eyes. Typical mom. The object that she had thrown at me and then insulted was my Erik plushie. He had the perfect Phantom outfit on, including a black mask that covered his entire face. I never had the mask on him unless I took him somewhere because it didn't feel right.

The plushie was designed to look like the original Leroux Erik, so of course he didn't look like a candidate for prom king. Regardless of how hideous everyone else found him, I loved my Erik plushie! He had been left in the basement from when I had been typing one of my stories that morning. Well, I'd been trying to type it. Ever since the dream about Erik getting beaten up by those stupid football players, I'd had trouble focusing on my writing. No doubt my readers were curious as to what was taking me so long to update my current story, but they would just have to wait. It was true that I already had the story written and only had to type the words into the website's computer, but I still couldn't force myself to do it. Every time something bad happened in the story, I remembered poor Erik. Those boys had really beaten him to a pulp. If I had had any sense at all, I'd have taken him to the hospital. What if they'd broken some of his ribs?!?

I slammed my eyes shut and held the plushie close. Memories of how horrible he'd looked when I found him played out on my eyelids. There was no escaping from that scene, whether it was night or day.

"Are you okay?"

My mom was doing laundry and she was partially up the stairs with a basket of clean clothes to put away. I smiled at her weakly and she hesitantly started back up the stairs. Dad was probably in the basement on his laptop, as he had decided to work from home today. I sighed and went upstairs to my room to put my plushie where it belonged. Technically it _belonged_ in my arms, but I was going to end up watching a movie or reading a book up there in a minute anyway. I propped the little fellow up on my pillow and turned to grab a book. Just as I was about to plop myself onto the bed for a long reading session, the doorbell rang.

"I've got it!" I called to my mom as I trotted down the stairs.

I opened the door and my brain exploded. It wasn't possible, but-but he was standing RIGHT THERE! At MY door! I was insane. That was the only possible way that he could be there. Then he smiled, and my knees started to shake.

"Hello." he said softly.

"Hi."

Was that all I could say, 'hi'? How wonderfully pathetic.

"I, uh, just dropped by to say thank you for, um, helping me a few days ago…"

Erik, stumbling over his words? No way.

"You're welcome. Would you like to come in?"

I smiled shyly and motioned to the living room with an open palm. My hand was surprisingly steady.

"Sure."

The next thing I knew, we were sitting on the couch together, talking quietly. And then one of the most wonderfully awkward moments of my life happened. My parents walked in.

"Who's this?" my dad asked with a raised eyebrow.

I jumped up off of the couch and was surprised to see that Erik had done the same. Was he…_nervous_?

"Mom, Dad," I said calmly, "this is Erik Destler. He and his family moved here recently from Colorado. He'll be attending my school this year. Erik, these are my parents, Caroline and Steve Henderson."

Erik slowly stuck out his hand as my parents approached him, and I blinked to erase the image of him flipping my dad over his shoulder ninja-style from my mind. The hand shaking was very normal and I smiled. I officially loved my life.

"So," my mom said, "you're not going to go all obsessive on him are you, Elizabeth?"

I froze. My life now sucked. Erik raised an eyebrow at me.

"Obsessive?" he asked, and looked back at my parents.

I made discrete motions with my hands, trying to get my parents to back off. Apparently the motions were a bit _too_ discrete.

"The Phantom of the Opera." my dad said while rolling his eyes. "His name was Erik, and he's all she ever talks about. Stories she writes about him, merchandise she collects, the movies, the books, everything's always about the Phantom."

Erik turned from looking at my dad to stare at me. I tried to become invisible, but failed. My parents chuckled to themselves and turned to leave us alone. Erik still stared.

"If you're waiting for an explanation, I'm afraid I don't have much of one." I said quietly.

"Obsessed?" he said, "Really? You couldn't find someone more interesting to be obsessed about?"

The look on his face was one of amusement, and I wondered what he was really thinking. Then of course he wanted to know everything, how I knew about him and why I was so interested in his story. So, I told him. I doubt he really understood everything all at once, but there was no way that I was going to show him anything. My own work would be too awkward and the movie or book would be too sad. After a while we changed the topic. I was sure that he had more questions, but we both needed a break from the pure awkwardness of the situation.

Soon the sun started to set, and he got up to leave. Erik was halfway out the door when he suddenly turned to face me, his eyes bright.

"It would be slightly ridiculous for the two of us to drive to school in separate vehicles, would you not agree?"

It was a totally unexpected move that sent my head spinning.

"I-I guess so. Yes, I think it would."

Hope rose within me. I had thought he would never want to see me again after finding out about my obsession, but obviously I had been wrong. I suddenly loved being wrong.

"So, I'll pick you up around seven, shall I?"

I nodded wordlessly and he smiled. Halfway down the driveway he turned and waved at me, and I waved back weakly. He was really here.


	5. Looming Darkness

Erik's POV-

She was obsessed with me. This fact probably should have disturbed me, but for some odd reason it didn't. It felt so strange to be able to sit and talk with someone, especially a lovely young lady such as Elizabeth, without trying to divert attention away from my deformity. And yet I sensed that even if I did, Elizabeth would have still been easy to talk to. Even though she had done her best to explain it, I still didn't really understand why she was so obsessed with me. Apparently my story struck some sort of chord within her. Could it be possible that she somehow understood all of the madness in my life? Was she the one person destined to hear the longing cries of my soul? No. I couldn't go down that path again. My heart just couldn't take any more disappointments like the one before. I had thought Christine was the one as well, but she ended up listening to another soul's song instead. For that I had the right to hate both her _and_ the boy, and I certainly did…for a while. Now my heart was weary and broken, and I didn't have the strength to try to patch it together yet again. Let it lie there all bruised and bleeding, no one would care. Or would they?

My mind drifted back to Elizabeth's smiling face, and I couldn't help but wonder exactly what she felt for me. How did I feel about her? Now there was a question that truly deserved some thought. It was four-o'clock in the morning. I still hadn't gotten to sleep yet because I couldn't stop thinking of her. What did that mean? How on earth could I have spent so many hours thinking about a girl I barely knew? Perhaps it was the way her hand had felt in mine in that one second she almost unknowingly interlaced her fingers with mine before blushing and pulling away. Maybe it was the look in her eyes that told me that she took immense joy in my presence, or how easy it was to relax and truly be myself around her. Maybe it was because I loved her.

I groaned loudly into my pillow. This couldn't be happening. Not even a week into my new life, and I had already fallen in love with someone. NO! I couldn't let myself do this. I'd had enough trouble with love in my past life, so why sign up for another round of pain? It wasn't as if she felt the same way about me…was it?

"_Erik…_"

The voice was barely a whisper in the darkness, but I snapped my head in its direction with the disturbing knowledge of whom the voice belonged to. Elizabeth stood in the corner of my room, holding her arms out in a longing way. She seemed to fade in and out, like a ghost. I leapt from my bed and dashed to the bathroom sink, turning on the cold water and splashing my face as soon as I passed beyond the doorframe. When I went back out into my bedroom, my face still dripping with cold water, she was still there.

"Elizabeth?" I said in disbelief.

She smiled and beckoned for me to come closer. I approached her cautiously; completely aware that what I was seeing was no more than some strange illusion, most likely a dream that I was having. The moment I touched her hand, she let out an ear-piercing scream. That was the moment that the dream turned into a nightmare.

My surroundings disappeared and a mirror appeared in front of me. I was quite surprised when I saw that my reflection was normal…until I saw the wraith floating behind me.

"Surprised?" the Phantom said with a smirk.

"I guess I really shouldn't be." I replied sullenly.

He smiled nastily and began to circle me like the vulture that he was before finally coming to rest in front of me. The Phantom was the one who got me into the mess that was in my past life. It all started when he promised to get me out of my cell at the carnival, then everything went downhill from there. After a while, I didn't want him controlling me anymore, but he was too strong for me to resist. He used my temper to do what he wanted, and in the process ruined my already pathetic life. The Phantom was no man, but literally a demon from Hell. I have no idea why he chose me to create so much fear and misery, but he did, and he wouldn't go away just because I got moved to a different century.

"I just wanted to drop by and see what plans you have in store for this little trinket."

At the snap of his fingers, an image of Elizabeth appeared between us. That was when I started to become nervous.

"Nothing." I replied tersely, "She's only a friend, an acquaintance really, nothing more."

"Oh, but you're _lying_ to me."

A fake hurt look appeared on his face, and I resisted the urge to spit on him. His face changed and he chuckled.

"You still have a bad temper, I see. How marvelous!"

It was only then that I realized my hands were clenched so hard that my knuckles were white.

"Let's skip the usual resistance and get straight to business, shall we?"

He thrust his hand into my chest and I felt a coldness creep through my entire body. Usually he could just read my thoughts and feelings whenever he wished, but apparently he didn't have easy access anymore.

A look of absolute glee washed over his face and I wondered what could have made him so happy. He withdrew his hand and practically danced over to the form of Elizabeth.

"Another puppet!" he exclaimed, "How delightful!"

Anger flared up within me and I grabbed at him, wishing he were solid and human so that I could choke the life out of him. He only laughed.

"Yes, your love for this one grows stronger by the day. Her strong spirit will make her an excellent puppet, once you tame it of course."

"Never." I spoke the word through clenched teeth.

"Never?" he said calmly, "We shall see about that."

The demon known as the Phantom touched my chest and I saw Elizabeth following my every wish. Love and pain filled her eyes as she surrendered herself to keep me from harm. The worst part came when I saw her under his control. All feelings of love, happiness, and joy were gone from her, nothing but bitterness and despair filling her beautiful eyes. She would do it. I knew without a doubt that she would. If I were in danger, she would do anything for me…because she loved me.

"NOOOO!!!"

I sat upright in bed. It had all been a dream. After several deep breaths, I got up and went to the shower. It was only four-thirty, but there was no way I was going back to sleep. I turned on the water and after a few moments removed my shirt. I looked at myself in the mirror for a split second. The meaning of what I had seen was clear enough, but I chose to ignore it. If I thought much about it, I would probably scream. 'Everything will be fine' I thought to myself later on as I drove over to pick up Elizabeth for school. The proof of how very wrong I was had refused to completely rinse off in the shower, no matter how hard I scratched at it. On my chest, almost invisible but certainly there, were ash-colored fingerprints.

Elizabeth's POV-

My alarm went off with an annoying beep and I quickly shut it off and leapt from my bed. It was so early that I doubted even my dad was up yet. The first day of my senior year of high school had come much too slowly, but that wasn't why I was excited today. I was excited because Erik was coming. Chills ran up and down my spine as I stepped under the hot water running in the shower. Just the thought of him made my skin tingle with anticipation. I pulled the shower cap off of my head and let the water run over my strawberry blonde hair. It had just been washed yesterday, but it could never be clean enough for seeing Erik. I grabbed the bottle of vanilla scented shampoo and worked it into a lather. There was plenty of time before I had to leave for school, so I took the time to condition my hair as well.

Once I was done drying it and giving it a gentle curl, I hopped into some clothes and gobbled down some breakfast, almost forgetting to brush my teeth before I left. I grabbed my school bag afterward and kissed my mom goodbye. My dad was up and dressed, and he leaned down to kiss me upon the head as he walked toward the door.

"Mmm." he said exaggeratedly, "You smell nice. Maybe you should just come with me today."

With that, my dad scooped me up in his arms and started to carry me out the door.

"Be careful, you two!" my mom said with a smile.

I laughed as he continued toward the garage, but we both stopped when we spotted a strange car sitting in the driveway. Leaning against it was Erik, smiling softly. My dad put me down and I slowly walked over to greet him. I heard an engine start up behind me and my dad honked the horn as he drove away. Erik took a leisurely step toward me and I turned to face him. He dipped his head politely in recognition of my gaze and motioned toward his car.

"Would you like a ride, Mademoiselle?"

Excitement bubbled up within me only to plummet and die. Why had I accepted yesterday? There was no way I could go through with this. I looked down at the pavement as I reluctantly declined his offer.

"No…I-I can't. I'm sorry, but, it wouldn't be right…"

His beautiful emerald eyes showed shock and then darkened with pain. I had spent barely a day with him, but already I had hurt him. Following his thoughts wasn't all that hard for me. It took only a moment for me to realize that he thought I was rejecting him because of his past. My heart ached with sad understanding, and I stepped forward to place my hand gently upon his arm.

"It's not what you're thinking," I said softly, "I promise."

"And what is it that you imagine me to be thinking?"

His tone was soft and dark. For only a moment, I had forgotten how careful I had to be around him. Erik's past had scarred not only his mind, but his soul as well. Even if he somehow managed to forget his past life as the Phantom, his soul would forever cringe at the most innocent word, a wordless fear looming over his thoughts and feelings.

"I would never reject you for your past, Erik. It's just…you wouldn't know to be ashamed of being seen with me. I want you to be able to start fresh this time, and doing this would no doubt start you on the wrong path, especially with students of your station…"

I bit my lip and looked up into his eyes, pleading with him to understand.

"There would be no reason to avoid being seen with you. The true reason has already been revealed. Why else would you reject me than my past? Do not try to spare me knowledge of the truth. Wisdom keeps you from accepting. The danger of being with a creature such as me would be too great. Yes, you are indeed wise to remember who I truly am. No matter how flawless a disguise he may wear, the Phantom's dark soul will forever shine through me."

With that, he began to walk toward his car.

"Erik!"

I cried out his name in desperation and ran toward him. He turned and words started spurting from my mouth in broken sentences.

"You're wrong." I said vehemently, "The Phantom's influence- it's gone, I know it! Your-your soul is free!"

Looking up into his eyes once more, I saw unsteadiness within him. Suddenly his eyes turned as black as ebony.

"Perhaps you truly _have_ forgotten what I am."

He grabbed me by the throat and shoved me against the wall, out of sight of the house. Surprised, I placed my hands over the one of his that was on my throat, but I didn't fight him. The dark shine in his eyes grew as his grip slowly tightened and cut off my air supply. I struggled to get even a single breath, but Erik was too good at his work. Within a few seconds, the world was beginning to spin and blur.

"Stay away, Elizabeth." he said softly, "Just stay away."

A moment longer and everything was going black. My only thought as I slipped into unconsciousness was for him. He would be charged with my death, updated technology revealing his identity much easier than in his day. A tear of sadness slipped from my eye and I weakly squeezed his arm. This really wasn't a bad way to go…


End file.
